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Insomniac

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Insomniac 3:46 Lyrics

Insomniac

I think you ought to know,
I think we’ve lost control dear,
Whatever turned you on,
You put it up your nose dear,
And though the feeling was sublime,
I think we’re running out of time,
‘Cos when you found it, you’d fix it,
Then lose it and then you’d go.

Will you be long, will you be long dear,
Will you be long, i’m waiting,
No sleep at all, carry me home,
No sleep at all, carry me home,
Won’t you take me there.

I serenade the walls,
Young people have it all dear
And surely life is a gas,
We never had it bad dear
Oh was it pointless from the start
Or did we cultivate the arts
I swim in circles, in puddles, in trouble and then I go
Will I be long, will I be long dear,
Will I be strong, you’re waiting

No sleep at all, carry me home,
No sleep at all, carry me home,
Won’t you take me here,
I don’t feel good inside,
I don’t feel good inside,
My darling don’t you cry, home, home.

No sleep at all, carry me home,
No sleep at all, carry me home,
Won’t you, won’t you home home, won’t you take me there,
I’m ready home, home, won’t you take me there,
I’m willing home, home, won’t you take me there,
I want you home, home, won’t you take me there.

Centipede 4:03 Lyrics

Centipede

You’re a centipede crawling down my spine,
You’re the evil world of the nursery rhyme,
You’re the drug in which I fly.

You’re an open wound that was left to bleed,
You’re my only friend,
Don’t be cruel to me,
I smash the looking glass against my head,
Let my senses burn as my body bled,
We are immigrants in a fractured time,
Found the pieces of a life that’s mine,
You’re all I fear that I might find.

Talent

See that boy,
He’s got the song of the century,
He’s got the face that was meant to be,
On the covers of lavishing height.

Watch that girl,
Moves like the vamp on the disco floor,
Curses the crap that has gone before,
Makes me happy,
Not very bright.

Any offers? Any offers? Any resale?,
Any offers? Any offers? Any resale?,
Any of none.

New turn,
Talent is all that we understand,
Gullible suits have the upper hand,
Are we laughing?,
Not very hard,
Sell your soul,
To papers I painted cold hand low,
Lied about crack in the pubs and so,
Are we crying?,
It’s ever so sad.

Any offers? Any offers? Any resale?,
Any offers? Any offers? Any resale?,
Any offers? Any offers? Any resale?,
Any of none.